


Broken

by AnkaraFerus



Category: MEJIBRAY
Genre: M/M, Mental Illness, Visual Kei
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 01:51:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1964433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnkaraFerus/pseuds/AnkaraFerus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Koichi tries to give Tsuzuku what he wants</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken

Koichi POV  
  
I watch you. Standing at the window, staring out. The only movement the quick tapping of your fingers on the windowsill and the mad flicking of your eyes. A twitching statue. I watch from an oversized armchair, a big, ornate thing so out of place in our tiny apartment, my knees pulled up to my chest. I watch the small manifestations of the subtle madness that devours you. Everything in wild juxtaposition. My Tsuzuku. Beautiful and broken.  
  
Or beautiful _because_ you're broken.  
  
“Hey, come here,” I say softly, holding out my hand. You shift your weight and your eyes flick to me. I smile sweetly and wiggle my fingers. Feeling devilish. Playing innocent. You sigh and roll your shoulders as if waking from a dream and slide your hand into mine. I pull you closer, out of your reckless thoughts and down to me. I lower my feet to the floor and you fall down beside them, your head in my lap and hugging my legs.  
  
“Tell me what you're thinking about,” I say, running my fingers through your hair.  
  
“Rats.”  
  
“Rats?” I repeat, wrinkling my nose.  
  
“In a maze.” You squeeze your eyes shut and wrap yourself tighter around me. “We're just rats in a maze and I want to be free.”  
  
“What are you talking about?” I ask with a laugh, though inside, my heart is frozen. “You are free. You look out that window all day at salarimen in their black suits. They are the ones stuck, not you.” I trace your tattooed arms and feel you shiver. Your hand slips under the hem of my pants to graze my bare calf. You bury your face between my knees to hide a frustrated exhale. “You're not like them. You do what you want.”  
  
“What I want?” Suddenly, you are in the chair with me, your knee between my legs and your body over mine, pinning me uncomfortably over the arm. I gasp and my heart jumps. “I don't even know what I want. I'm told what I want.”  
  
“You wanted this chair,” I say, sliding my hands around your waist as a subtle heat built between us, “and now you have it.”  
  
“I wanted it so I could fuck you in it.” Almost a snarl. So close to my lips, I feel them vibrate.   
  
“Then, fuck me in it.”  
  
Your lips press to mine so hard they bruise. Hands fight with buckles and buttons for bare skin. Shirts over our heads. Pants in piles on the floor. Naked at the speed of light. I wrap my legs around you and feel the heat of you against me, so hard it hurts, and you whimper against my lips. My back bent painfully over the arm of the chair, you slide your hand over my bare chest and down as the two tips of your tongue fiddle with the little ring on mine.  
  
My little moans only seem to encourage you as you wrap your long fingers around me, teasing me, working me up until I'm as painfully hard as you. I let my lips travel over your jaw and down to the twisted heart on your neck and you shiver as I trace it with my tongue. You loosen the knot in my hair and drown us in pink, gathering it in your hands. Fingers tense. Holding back.  
  
“What do you want?” I breathe into your ear.  
  
“I want to break you.”  
  
“Then, break me.”  
  
You yank my head back and with a shock you are inside me, deep and merciless. You bite into my collarbone until I bleed, growling as you pound into me with jackhammer strokes. Your nails make marks on my hips that burn with our sweat. I scream for you to stop, but everything is backwards. A no that means yes.   
  
Suddenly, your frantic pace stops as your eyes meet mine. Hands that were rough turn gentle as you pull me up out of my awkward position and into your lap. I trace the line of your brow, the bridge of your nose, the bow of your lips and you kiss my fingertips, sending little shocks over my skin. I roll my hips over you and you sigh into my palm.  
  
You wrap your arms around me as I move over you in long, steady strokes and I bury my nose in your hair, suffocating in the smell of you. Leather and menthol. You make a sound like weeping and I kiss your eyes.   
  
“Tell me what you want.”  
  
“Just this.”  
  
I throw my head back and release a cry as you brush against the thing inside me that makes me sing. Every muscle straining against gravity. Feeling like I could fly. You lift your hips deeper into me and lock your lips to mine. Moans intertwine as I tighten around you, skin like fire, breath like steam. A jerk, a gasp, and a burst of heat as you spill yourself inside me. The sound of your voice as you groan your pleasure is enough to send me over the edge and the coil inside me releases with an endorphine-laced thunderbolt.  
  
Gasping, shaking, our hearts pounding so hard they make us deaf, you gently roll me back onto my back in the chair, perching on your knees before it, and just look at me. Me. Not at some invisible monster or rats in a maze. Just me. But, only for an moment and then it's gone. You place a kiss on my thigh before standing and returning to your vigil at the window. The nighttime lights making your damp skin gleam.  
  
“I want you to fix me,” you say absently.  
  
“There's nothing wrong with you.”


End file.
